Pandora's Box
by Wildfire Talausa
Summary: Pandora is an ordinary girl with an unordinary name. She has no idea how much power her name actually holds. AU that takes place after S10. Some language.
1. Running

My name is Pandora Harmony Middleton, and my story begins with me running for my life, running from the two guys chasing me, running from the Darkness, running from my past. Don't get me wrong; running is my thing. In fact, this whole set of events began with me planning on running away from my 57th foster home (it's a national record; maybe even worldwide!), when Dumb and Dumber broke in through my window! Talk about rude...I barely escaped, and that was a month ago. They've been chasing me ever since.

I know I was planning on leaving anyways, but it was supposed to be on my terms! Not with these two hooligans chasing me 24/7, shouting odd things like "Give us your box!" (I think that's slang for cooch, those pigheaded bastards.)

Anyways, on top of that, just ten minutes ago an earthquake started. Right on time too, because I was totally a goner. Those idiots had managed to catch up with me, only for all three of us to get knocked to the ground. And then, a dark, black cloud rolled over us. Just being in the cloud I felt something swell inside me. Not pain, no it was something much more primal that I couldn't lay a finger on. Then I felt it, that familiar tingle I had been getting more and more frequently these past few weeks. The one that urged me to do the only thing I truly knew how to do.

I ran.

And I ran fast.

It's a good thing I did too, because just seconds after I scrammed, I heard them start screaming. I recognized that kind of scream, the kind that rips your throat to shreds, the kind that leaves you exhilarated and exhausted both at once, the kind that reveals who you truly are to the world. A scream of pure, unadulterated fear.

Something (probably the tingle) told me that they were seeing their worst fears. And they were not pretty. And that to avoid the same fate, I had to keep moving...

Right as I realized this, I saw her, looming up in the Darkness, a beacon of hope. I panicked. I turned sharply to the left and heard a crack just moments before I face planted. Nice going, Midi! I fell to the ground, skinning my hands, but I was more concerned with the glaring failure of my ankle, who had chosen the most (im)perfect time to break. I rolled my eyes and hauled my skinny ass back up, wobbling along as fast as I possibly could. That's where I find myself now. Running with a limp.

Strangely enough, I wasn't entirely shocked at the Darkness. I mean, I had seen some pretty messed up things growing up. Mainly, things that go bump in the night. Don't believe me? Fine, that's your prerogative. I know what I saw.

What I didn't see was the black car in front of me. I slammed into it at full force, sliding over the hood and landing painfully on my already broken ankle. (Ironically, I think the second fall set it back in place.) I heard a muffled sound of protest come from the car (Kit?), but I couldn't be sure for two reason:

1\. The Darkness was loud. Like, roaring wind loud.

2\. She had popped out again.

Now, I'm not exactly sure what happened next. My heart either sped up or stopped entirely. All I know is that the level of blood in my head changed drastically, and I blacked out.


	2. Bump in the Night

I came to with two male figures leaning over me. Naturally, my brain made a dim connection to my month-long struggle and I freaked out. I sat up quickly, almost bashing one of them in the head.

"Whoa!"

"Hey! Watch it!"

It took me a second to realize that these were not the voices of my attackers.

"Sorry," I mumbled, glancing up sheepishly.

The first one merely pursed his lips, gazing at me with concern. He was cute, surprisingly, and boy oh boy was I jealous of that hair!

The second one, however, the one I had almost hit with my face, had a look of sheer outrage on his face, his green eyes sparking with lightening. Instinct told me to retreat ASAP. So I obliged, scooting painfully backwards on my hands and foot, dragging my useless ankle along for the ride.

"Sorry?!" he bellowed, rising from the crouch he was in. His hands were balled into fists, and they were shaking badly. "You slammed your sorry ass into Baby, fainted, which caused us to come out and check on you, only to have you try to head butt me!" He started slowly moving closer, and I was scooting as fast as I could away. My ankle bounced off a rock, causing me to stop. He leaned in close and whispered, "If you haven't noticed, I have more important things to worry about than some stupid girl who can't pay attention to where she's going!"

The other man just stared at the angry one in shock. He hadn't moved from his position on the ground a few feet away.

Guess I had to do everything myself.

I slowly began to stand up, proud of myself when I didn't wince at the pain. The angry one just cocked an eyebrow, looking almost bemused at my attempts. I had to show him wrong.

"My name is Midi, and I am not stupid." I declared. Wow, way to go, Midi. You sure showed him. I was mentally slapping myself when I noticed the look of bewilderment on his face.

"Excuse me?" he sputtered, obviously as surprised as I was. The storm of Darkness was still raging around us. The tingle came back, warning me that I needed their help, but I would have to hurry. The Darkness was getting ready to strike.

"I'm not stupid," I repeated. "I was running away from these two guys who were trying to hurt me when the Darkness hit. I only shook them off my trail a few minutes ago."

The men looked at each other in surprise, the concern deepening on the countenance of the one with the gorgeous hair. He slowly stood up (Jesus, he was tall!) and walked over towards us, his body movement suggesting protectiveness. I don't know why, but it was a comforting gesture.

I knew I had their attention, and the possibly the support of the tall one, but I could see the Darkness solidifying behind them. The tingle increased to an almost burning sensation. I was running out of time.

"They could be here any minute, and I am in no shape to run or to fight back. They're bigger than you," I stated, gesturing to the taller one. He raised his eyebrows. I hastily amended my statement. "Bigger, but maybe not as tall." He leaned back a little, his expression satisfied.

I turned towards the other. "For the record, running into a black car in the middle of a swirling storm of blackness isn't that odd." He grunted slightly, and I wasn't sure what it could possibly mean. So I rushed forward with my argument, knowing that I only had seconds left before the Darkness drew my fear in to assemble her once more.

"Help me," I pleaded, hating how my voice cracked. "Please, my ankle is broken, and you two are my only hope." The noise from the Darkness dropped slightly, but I closed my eyes, trying to hold back my fear, trying to push back the tingle. It was truly starting to burn.

"Dean..."

I cracked open an eye to see them locked in a silent staring contest. The tingle pinged once, informing me of what was going on, before dropping back down to the low, painful burn: The one with the gorgeous hair, taller than the other by a few inches, was fighting to take me along with them, while the angry one was against it. I also was informed by the tingle that they were brothers, with the angry one being the eldest by four years. No idea how the tingle figured that out but, hey, I learned a while ago not to question it.

"Fine!"

I looked up all the way to see the tall one smiling in triumph while the shorter one glared back at him.

"We'll bring her, but you two get to have the talk if it comes to it." He stormed past me, almost knocking me over.

"Deal." I turned to realize that the tall one had walked over and picked up my bag. I had almost forgotten about it. That poor bag held all that I owned.

"Hey, my name's Sam." He held out his hand, which enveloped mine entirely. I had to crane my neck to look him in the eyes, which made me realize that he was at least a foot taller that me. He smiled warmly at me, which, oddly enough, wasn't something I was used to. Most of the time, people sneered at me, thinking I was trash.

"And that bucket full of sunshine over there is my older brother Dean," he explained as he began walking towards the car. I hobbled along after him, hyperaware of the shadowy figure following along behind us.

"What got his thong in a twist?" I asked bitterly, earning a surprised bark of laughter from Sam.

"No, no it's nothing like that." He looked over at me and gave me a look I knew all too well. I pulled in front of him and stopped, forcing him to stop as well.

"Whatever it is, I can handle it. No calculations, no trying to figure out whether or not I can comprehend it." I shouted, fury screaming through my veins. I was vaguely aware of the Darkness growing around us. "I can almost guarantee that I have seen or heard worse than whatever it is that you want to tell me." I tried to stare him down, to get him to give into my will, but it was like trying to stare down a mountain.

God, why was he so tall?!

"I highly doubt that."

I spun around (much to the protest of my ankle) to see Dean leaning against the car. His eyes stared at me with the same intensity that I had been staring at his brother with. The tingle told me not to hurt Sam in any way, shape, or form, or I would incur Dean's wrath.

I straightened my back and stared back. "It's true."

"What could you have possibly seen, besides this Darkness, that makes you qualified to judge what you can handle?" Sam piped up, a look of disbelief coloring his features. I flushed beet red, embarrassed of what I had to say next, and I knew I had to be honest about it.

"I've, uh, had dealings with, uh, things that go bump in the night." I stammered out. "And that's putting it mildly," I muttered under my breath.

Dean smirked. He pushed himself off the car and sauntered over. I barely noticed Sam move towards the car, a similar smirk on his face.

I didn't have time to think what the smirk could be about before Dean was hovering over me. I also didn't have to break my neck to hold his gaze, but it was close.

"Kid, we hunt the things that go bump in the night."

I was about to ask him what he meant (and to tell him off for calling me Kid), when I heard her voice behind me, sending a chill up my spine.

 _You aren't my sister._


	3. Fear

His jaw dropped. If it hadn't been attached, Dean's jaw would've hit the ground. But I didn't have time to focus on that.

I turned slowly to see her standing behind me. She looked mostly solid, but liquid at the same time, like an ice cube filled with water. She was my height, with the same red hair and almond shaped eyes. But her eyes were green, and mine are blue. Our cheek bones matched, but my nose took a different structure than hers. To top it all off, her head was more oval where mine was round. Despite it all, I knew, without a doubt, that she was my sister. And I didn't need to the tingle to tell me that.

"Celeste?" I whispered, feeling faint. My heart was trying to break out of my chest. I had never met my sister before, but I knew of her from the stories the nurses told me. Her most recent picture that they could find was in my bag.

I probably would've run straight into the Darkness, straight into danger, if it weren't for Sam.

I had been walking forward when I felt two iron bars wrap around my waist. I felted disconnected, like looking at my body from another angle instead of my own eyes. I look down to discover that it was two arms clinging tightly to me, holding me back. The veins and muscles were straining. I looked behind me to see Sam, his eyes full of pain and sorrow, with a hint of confusion and struggle. Was I really that strong? That powerful? Enough to make a full grown mountain man struggle to keep me back?

I looked back over to Dean, who looked as if he had been punched in the gut. He was doubled over, his face a mask of utter shock.

What were they seeing?

 _You are not my sister_ , Celeste repeated, her form solidifying more. _Never have, never will be_. She slowly began gliding forward, her hand outstretched to grab my own.

"No, we are sisters," I insisted, but it sounded false to my own ears. My fear inside was growing, and all my hopes and dreams were at the shattering point. I felt my eyelids growing heavy. The Darkness, it was trying to make me succumb to her, to my fears. The tingle piped up sluggishly, uselessly informing me that it would be unwise to take her hand.

 _You are nothing. You have no family._ She blinked, and her eyes turned black. I heard Sam and Dean both gasp. Celeste blinked again, and her eyes were back to green. Odd.

But she had said it, giving my fears a voice: she did not accept me as her baby sister.

The Darkness around us swelled and swirled closer, sucking the little life out of the light that was left. Dean got up from the car, and ran over us, laying his hand on my shoulder. I could barely see Sam on my other side, though his arms had left my waist. He took his brother's lead and laid a hand on my other shoulder.

Suddenly, my neck burned bright, and I heard myself speaking. I couldn't control the words and I definitely couldn't stop the flow.

" _My biggest fear is not seeing you. My biggest fear is never seeing you again. My biggest fear is losing you. My biggest fear is not seeing you..._ "

Over and over I said the phrase, unsure of what it meant. All I knew is that after a minute or two, I started believing it! I didn't want to; after all, I had just met her! I wanted to get to know her, learn about her tastes and pleasures, talk guys with her (though rumor has it that my sister was gay; I'd talk girls with her if it meant a connection!). I knew that this was becoming my biggest fear, and it was feeding the Darkness.

Something shifted in the Darkness, and Celeste's face crumpled in confusion. From her feet came smoky tendrils, slowing twisting and turning up her legs, wrapping her up in a cocoon of sorts.

I felt a change next to me, and my hands shot out on their own accord. I hadn't stopped talking, but I was somehow keeping the boys from rushing forward. I felt their eyes on me, and their reluctant trust.

Celeste was almost entirely wrapped in the Dark tendrils, and her legs had faded entirely from existence.

Dean's hand tightened on my shoulder, and Sam's did the same. These boys trusted me, even if they didn't know what was happening. Hell, I barely knew what I was doing. All I knew is that it gave me hope. And that hope surged within me.

"BE GONE!" I screamed, throwing all of my rage, fear, and hope into it. Celeste's image disappeared completely and I blacked out once more.


	4. Prelims

When I came to (man, I have to stop fainting!), I had to squint against the glaring sunlight. Where had all the Darkness gone?

I struggled to sit up, and tried my best to take in my surroundings. I was sitting in the back seat of a muscle car with faded black leather interior. The tingle flared briefly, informing me that this 1967 Chevy Impala belonged to one Dean Winchester and had the name of Baby. Well, that actually explained a lot. The car smelt of day old burgers and fries with a hint of pie and unwashed males. Eww. Besides the questionable odors, the car was in excellent condition, though the tingle informed me that the vehicle had been rebuilt several times.

I peered out the window. The Darkness was gone (or at least it wasn't anywhere I could see), and it looked seemingly normal out in the real world. I could see Sam and Dean standing a couple of yards away, in what appeared to be a heated argument. Between them lay my backpack.

I was just getting ready to hop out of the car when they stopped abruptly. Dean snatched up my bag and marched over to the car, a look of pure murder on his face. Sam followed along more slowly, looking down at the ground.

I was so focused on Sam that I didn't see when Dean got to the car. The door next to me burst open, and suddenly I was being drug out of the car. I screamed in protest, fear building inside me, my arm echoing my scream as it threatened to pop out of socket.

Dean yanked me entirely out of the car and threw me to the ground and tossed my backpack next to me. I snatched it up and turned to see a .45 pointed straight between my eyes.

"Dean!" Sam rushed over and put himself between me and Dean. I didn't need the tingle to tell me that Dean didn't want me around. A cold sense of calm settled over me. I knew how this chapter in my life would end. It would end the same way all the others did. Dean had made up my mind for me.

"Sammy, move it!" Dean barked, his eyes fixed on mine like lasers.

Sam held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Dean, let's try to figure this out. Questions first, blazing guns second."

Dean did not lower his gun. "I'll ask her questions, and, if I don't like the answers, I'll shoot her."

He wasn't kidding. I saw it in his eyes. What did I do wrong to deserve this hatred?!

Sam sighed before lowering his arms. He stepped backwards and stood beside me, his arms crossed. Dean's gun had yet to move.

"Why did Charlie say you weren't her sister?" the older brother growled.

All I could do was blink in confusion. I glanced over to Sam, who was looking at me with the same level of genuine curiosity as his brother. "Who's Charlie?" I asked. Dean narrowed his eyes before quickly slamming back the hammer of the gun. I jumped, and I realized that Dean scared me.

Sam turned to face me, ignoring Dean entirely. "The woman in the Darkness. That was our friend Charlie," he explained, his expression friendly, open.

It suddenly occurred to me that they might be playing good cop/bad cop, though not on purpose. It was just the way they operated. But the only way to come out on the right side of this meant I would have to play along with their little game.

"Are you two talking about Celeste?" I asked, gazing warily at the gun.

Dean frowned. "Sam, what was Charlie's birth name?" He asked, not taking his eyes off me. I couldn't help but notice how green they were. Like a meadow in spring.

"Celeste Middleton." Sam stated, one eyebrow cocked.

I couldn't help it. I had to correct him, take him down a notch. "Celeste Melody Middleton, to be exact." I was smug in that instance, and I knew it. But, as I had taken Sam down a notch, Dean managed to do the same to me, throwing me off guard.

"What's your name?"

Had I not said it? No, I'm sure I had. "Midi," I replied, furrowing my brow at him.

His lip twitched once, an almost smile. "Your real name."

Oh.

"Pandora Harmony Middleton, or Midi for short, if you don't mind." I snapped.

"Pandora?" Sam looked at me funny.

I sighed. "Yes, like the music website."

Sam shook his head. "No, like the-"

"Why Midi?" Dean interrupted.

"None of your business!" I retorted.

Dean pursed his lips. "It's becoming my business," he whispered.

I stood up, fuming. "If it's your business to know my name, then it's my business to know yours!" I stormed up next to him, ignoring the gun. I did the only thing I could think of.

"Dean Winchester, I know your middle name, and that of your brother."

That threw him off. Good. He looked uneasily at Sam, who only looked confused.

"Hate to break it to you, but we don't have middle names." He said it with a shrug, but Dean had become a sheet of white. Obviously this was a sore point that little Sam didn't know about.

"Sammy, shut up." Dean choked out, lowering his gun. He ran a hand swiftly through his hair, frustration echoing in all of his movements. I felt bad for using the name card, but the tingle told me it was the only way to get Dean to lower his gun.

He whipped back to face me, his face inches from mine, his green eyes boring into my blue ones. "Tell us your story. All of it. I can tell when someone is lying, so I advise against it. Maybe if we know your backstory, then we can figure out what to do next."

That made absolutely no sense to me. All I know is that he asked me to reveal my whole story so far. NO ONE wanted to know my story. They only ever cared about the most recent chapters and trying to control how the next one started. Despite their actions, I knew that the Winchesters cared about my story. I just wasn't sure why.

Only one way to find out.

"Once upon a time..."

Dean groaned, holding up one hand to stop me. He swiftly holstered his weapon and went to the car. He pulled a six pack of beer out of the truck, then handed Sam and I a bottle each. He then sat on the hood of his car, popped off the top of his bottle, then turned to me expectantly.

"Well?" he grumbled, taking a sip of his beer. "Once upon a time what?"


	5. Once Upon a Time

_Once upon a time, my life started with the death of my father. My birth parents were driving to pick up my sister from a slumber party when a drunk driver slammed into them. My mother was five months pregnant with me._

 _When the ambulance got there, my father was already dead and my mother was unresponsive._

 _They rushed us to the hospital to perform an emergency C-section, while cops went to tell Celeste. They thought it best to not tell her about me until they were sure I would live._

 _I was only in the NICU for a week before she did that stunt with the computer program and ran away. They never found her._

 _So, the nurses were in charge of finding me a name. They had already nicknamed me Midi, for Middleton, but that was all I had._

 _The cops combed my parents' house, looking for clues to where Celeste might be, when they came across an old note in my mom's bedside table._

 _It said "Celeste OR Pandora" with a question mark circled beneath it._

 _That was all they had. There was no sign that my mother was even aware of the pregnancy, let alone had a name picked out for me._

 _My first name became Pandora, but the nurses were still looking to give me a middle name, to define me more._

 _It was the doctor who performed the C-section who came up with the solution._

 _"Name her Harmony," he said. He explained that he had seen in the file that my sister's middle name was Melody. Since I was the second child, I was, in theory, the second part, the Harmony to her Melody._

 _It was settled. They wrote up my birth certificate and I officially became Pandora Harmony Middleton. But everyone still called me Midi._

 _The nurses took turns watching me while we waited for the court to find out what to do with me. Orphanage? Foster home? Adoption?_

 _After three years (yes, three), they finally settled on the middle option and threw me unceremoniously into the foster system. The nurses had taught me the best they could in their down time, so I was a little more advanced than most children my age. They shopped for me and got me various clothing articles, books, and toys. They told me I could come visit whenever I needed to escape. As you can imagine, I took them up on that offer many times in the years to come._

 _For the record, I am the poster child for everything that can go wrong in a foster home. In fact, my first one had abusive parents. They hit me and I called the hospital. They sent one of the nurses to pick me up while the cops handled the situation. I had been there a grand total of three days._

 _I've suffered physical, mental, and emotional abuse from foster "parents", their friends, "siblings", their friends, and social workers. Only thing I can claim never happened was rape. Several tried to once I started looking decent enough, but I had learned long before that how to quickly get out of situations like that._

 _Mind you, I had been in at least 20 different foster homes by age 7 all across the Midwest. But that's when my numbers both picked up and declined at the same time. I learned the importance of running that year, and I've never stopped since._

 _At school, they had been teaching us how to run and how to navigate obstacle courses. I was a natural. Not even the teacher could keep up with me. And I wasn't even trying!_

 _When I got home that day, I ran through the kitchen door to see my foster father with a belt in his hand and his blood-son cowering on the floor in front of him. Timmy was 17 and my hero. I had been in that house for nearly a year, and it was all due to him. He protected me from his father, jumping in front of the belt whenever he could, or taking care of my wounds when he couldn't get there on time. Seeing him, lying there, I snapped._

 _I dashed forward right as Timmy's dad swung the belt again. It lashed across my back, and I bit my lip, refusing to cry out. He got pissed. He kept trying to reach Timmy, but I was quicker, getting in front of the belt every time. I had welts wrapped along my arms and legs, but I didn't feel them. They didn't hurt one bit._

 _At one point, I managed to get my hands on the belt. I ripped it out of his hands and started swinging it at him. That was the first time (and only time) I had stood up for my self to that extent._

 _I drove him out of the house, ensuring that he wasn't coming straight back, before running inside to check on Timmy. He ran me upstairs to his room and told me to pack my things; I was going to run away. His dad was a lawyer, but Timmy had learned a few things. He took polaroids of all our wounds, documenting each one carefully. As soon as he was done, he ran to the bathroom to get the first aid kit while I packed._

 _I dashed across the hall into my room to pack. At the end of my bed was a brand new backpack. I had never seen it before, but I started stuffing clothes and books into it nonetheless. The bag never grew in size. It just kept taking my things. I soon noticed I had packed my whole room (which was two suitcases worth of stuff) into a normal looking backpack. I reached my hand inside to find everything neatly arranged in a space much too large for the assumed space. I had a Mary Poppins bag. So I said "screw it" and started shoving blankets, pillows, toys, anything and everything I could find._

 _I took it downstairs and started shoving food into it as well, as well as a couple of knives just in case._

 _Timmy ran down a few minutes later with his bass guitar (named Koko) and an amp in tow. He had been giving me lessons while I had been here, and I had become half decent. Well, I at least knew the basics. He handed the musical ensemble over to me, saying they were mine now. Maybe I could use them to make money while out on the road._

 _I didn't want to leave alone, but I knew that Timmy felt responsible to stay. We had three other foster siblings. Timmy always felt like he had to protect us. It had been rumored that this house had the highest numb_ _er of runaways in the foster system. Maybe I had just discovered why._

 _At age seven, I ran away for the first time with enough supplies for two months. I wasn't found for six. And that was because I willing came back._

 _I had become proficient enough with Koko that I could bring in up to $100 in tips a day. I'm not sure if the tips were out of pity or because I truly deserved it, but I didn't question it. I was living off those tips, sometimes giving some of my money to other homeless kids I ran across._

 _After a time, I learned that Timmy had gone missing, and that his father was claiming that his son had probably killed me. That's why I came out of hiding, though I'm not sure if it was to protect Timmy or expose his father. It worked, sort of. By me coming out of hiding, Timmy's dad got sent to jail and my three foster siblings (plus two more) got put back in the system. Timmy is still missing though..._

 _That settled it for me. I wouldn't allow myself to get attached ever again. I stuffed Koko and the amp in my bag (yes, they fit; don't ask me how), and I took off after a few weeks in my new home. I would either roam it stay put, but I always returned to the hospital when I was ready to come back._

 _The cops could never find me, and I always got assigned a new home when I got back. It was an odd life, but hey, it worked for me._

 _There have only been two instances when I left before I was ready. Once when I was nine and just last month. The former occurred when I was kidnapped coming home from school, but that's a story for another time. All I have to say is Vamps better watch themselves._

 _Yup, Vampires. It was my firsts encounter with the Shadowrealm, and after that my encounters only increased in number. I heard a rumor that two brothers were raising hell (figuratively and literally) across the States. I'm guessing that I'm in the presence of those two? That's what I thought._

 _And that's my story. Shadow encounters and foster homes galore followed me for the next nine years, until last month when I was attacked._


	6. Primal

"So...any questions?" I asked nervously. I had never told my whole story to anyone before, not even the nurses who had become my surrogate family in the wake of my disastrous birth. I had left out some personal parts, like the complete story of my encounter with the Vamp nest when I was nine, and I entirely left out the more personal story of the Coven of Witches I had run across when I was thirteen. I had already revealed enough that they could either congratulate me on living so long or turn me into the proper authorities.

Dean was looking at me with something akin to awe, while Sam just looked plain sick.

The latter took a swig of his second beer (I still hadn't taken a single sip out of my first one) before saying: "That still doesn't explain how the Darkness go into your backpack."

I froze, my eyes flicking over to the offender beside me. "What?"

Dean looked at me quizzically. "You don't remember? You shouted 'BE GONE' at Charlie, then held up your backpack. The Darkness rushed into it, almost like a vacuum. You then zipped it up and said..." Dean hesitated, looking at Sam.

"What?" I glanced back and forth, feeling the panic inside me growing. "What did I say?!"

Sam's eyes were boring into me, his hazel eyes shifting back and forth quickly between many conflicting emotions. Something about them were very unnerving. He sighed, glancing quickly up at the sky then back at me.

"Well...you said 'I won't remember.' Then blacked out. That was a few hours ago." Sam explained, his eyes locking onto mine, no longer conflicted.

I suddenly realized why they unhinged me so. I had seen the same look on the faces of doctors facing a difficult case, trying to find the logical answer.

"Stop that!" I snapped, setting my untouched beer next to me on the grass.

Sam blinked, confused. "Stop what?"

"Trying to solve me!" I stood up, furious. "I'm a human, not a math problem. I don't have some incurable disease." I could not believe it! I had just shared my life story with these guys, and they had the nerve to try to figure me out?

"Midi, wait, that's not what I was doing!" Sam stood up and rushed over, spinning me around. He looked genuinely concerned, his shaggy hair falling across his eyes. He was actually kind of cute, in a puppy dog kind of way. He half smiled at me before continuing. "Midi, I'm trying to solve your bag, your predicament, your obvious reluctance to trust. But not you. You make sense to me. After all, I knew Charlie, to an extent at least."

I paused. "Why should I trust you?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure if you should. But you can believe me when I say that I will do everything I can to protect you. I owe your sister that much."

That decided it for me. "I'm not Celeste." I hissed.

I spun back, making to grab my bag, only to find a booted foot planted squarely on the straps. I straightened up to give Dean a piece of my mind, only to find that he wasn't looking at me.

I had once seen a pack of dogs kill a rabbit. Dean's face reminded me of a mix between the rabbit's (scared) and the dogs' (excited). It was a very Primal look, like he had spotted something to hunt, but that thing could kill him in a blink.

He had completely stilled, but he manage to whisper four words to us, four words that would haunt me for years to come.

"Get to the car."


	7. Vamps

I turned slowly to see what he had seen. On the other side of the car stood almost a dozen Vamps, their faces and hands covered in fresh blood. I don't know when they got there, but the tingle told me that they had heard the bit about the Vamp Nest.

Dean looked around uneasily, his hand gripping the bottle of his beer tightly. I saw mine just a few feet away where I had left it, full and uncapped. If I could just reach it before the Vamps struck...

"Give us the girl!"

I spun back to the crowd, locating the speaker. It was a tall boy (and when I say boy, I mean _boy_ , like my age), with spiky black hair, pearlescent skin, and sea-foam green eyes. Not as striking as Dean's, but more mesmerizing. If he hadn't been covered in blood, he might have been cute.

Behind him, the sun was beginning to set. A whole day had already been burned away in the presence of the Winchesters.

"What do you want with her?" Sam questioned, shifting his weight ever so slightly forward, bringing him closer to my beer and us.

The tall one laughed. "Her box, of course. And her death." He grinned, his fangs sliding out and shining eerily in the dying light.

I felt myself lean back, towards Dean, uncertainty coursing through my veins. Was it possible that this Vamp knew my secret?

Dean glanced towards Sam, and I felt something pass between them in those few short seconds. A plan, perhaps? Whatever it was, I just hoped it was a good one. One that wouldn't end in my death. Then Dean met the eyes of the lead Vamp, grinning just as eerily.

"What if we want the same thing?"

Wait, what?

Before I could process what he meant, Dean shoved me over towards Sam, who pulled out a large knife with odd carvings and engravings. He pressed it tightly against my neck while his other arm wrapped around my chest. I was so pissed, with blood roaring in my ears, that I almost missed what Sam breathed to me next:

"Midi, trust me. I won't hurt you. But you have to act scared."

Scared? Hell, I could act scared!

"Hey! Let go of me!" I made a show of trying to struggle out of Sam's grasp while I began processing the ins and outs of this new predicament. Sam had one arm restraining me, but it was also protecting my chest from any projectiles. The knife wasn't actually pressed against my throat; it was pressed against his thumb against my throat. Dean had managed to break the end off his bottle, creating a temporary weapon, and had drifted casually over towards my backpack.

To the Vamps, I was in danger.

To the Winchesters, I was safe.

My "struggle" with Sam brought us almost up against the rear door of the car. He had been playing along, and punched me in the side to "quiet me down." I doubled over for effect, at which point he (not so nicely) yanked me back up by my hair, the knife repositioned with the point against the hollow spot on my throat.

The Vamps looked warily back and forth between the two Winchesters, obviously calculating the odds of getting to me before Sam could plunge the knife (well, it was more of a dagger) into my throat.

The tall one stepped forward, his eyes coyly sliding over the brothers.

"Peace!" he declared, stepping around the front of the Impala, his hands raised. Sam moved us closer to the car, pressing the dagger tighter. I gasped as I felt something warm trickle down along my collarbone. I had to remind myself that it was just a show, that Sam wouldn't hurt me.

The Vamp stopped, but his smile only grew.

"Please, by all means kill her. Her death will be celebrated by all who live in the Shadowrealm." His eyes slid scathingly over me, making me feel exposed.

I felt myself sway as all the blood drained out of my face. He knew. The Vamps knew.

"Well, Winchester? Are you going to kill the very being that will signal the end of all ends?" The lead Vamp demanded, his eyes flashing in the moonlight that was now washing over the clearing.

Sam hesitated, and I knew the Vamp saw it, for he smiled with something so sinister that I felt my heart try to stop.

"Thought so," he purred. "Her death will be much like your previous ones: the end of humanity. Although," he added, as an almost afterthought, "hers will be permanent."

There was only one solution that I saw that left Sam and Dean with a fighting chance, but before I could act on it, Dean charged the Vamp, slicing his head off not so cleanly with the ragged edge of his beer bottle.

The head rolled and bounced along the ground, coming to a stop at my feet. It took all my willpower to not look down, to not scream.

"You talk too much." Dean stated calmly, spitting on the body.

The clearing was still for a few moments that seemed to stretch into infinities, before erupting into absolute chaos.

Sam dragged me to the car (by my arm and not my hair, thank goodness!) and threw me into the backseat, diving in and slamming the door behind us. He started locking all but the driver door, obviously waiting for Dean.

There was only one, major, problem with our plan.

Dean had gone for my backpack, and was now surrounded by Vamps. They were keeping their distance for now, but all it took was one idiot to change the odds.

Sam looked torn. To go out there would be suicide. We were lucky that we had made it to the car. If one or both of us when out there, our chances of getting back drifted into the single digits.

"Save Dean."

I whipped around and stared at Sam, who was staring at the seat in front of him with a deadset resolve. He then glanced up at me, almost apologetically.

"The Winchester Achilles Heel: each other." He huffed bitterly, apparently amused at this line of thought. He then looked me full on, the pain emanating from him in waves.

"It-it's my fault Charlie's dead," he began, grimacing when he saw my look of devastation. Charlie...Celeste...was dead? "But maybe I can atone for that mistake by saving her sister."

I didn't get it. What was he trying to say?

He moved suddenly, gripping my arms tight. "Midi, I know you aren't your sister. But she died doing what I asked: finding a way to save Dean. I don't want her work to die in vain, but I can't ask you to fight alongside me to maybe get back." His hazel eyes practically glowed in the moonlight, almost feverishly bright. "All I ask is that you get Dean out of here. Don't look back. I'll give you both a head start, but that's all I can do. DON'T let Dean talk you out of it!"

It hit me, and I started to panic.

"No! We'll find something else to do..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. These boys had grown on me, and they knew Celeste. They were starting to feel like the family I never had.

But we both knew that this was the best shot we had at saving all of us.

Sam smiled bitterly, before pulling me in for a crushing bear hug. He was extremely warm, and smelled slightly of books and mint. He was risking his life to save me, a girl he had just met, and his brother, the man he had known all his life.

He pulled back, his eyes filled with unimaginable sadness. He took off his coat and wrapped it around me; I hadn't even noticed I was shivering. Before I could say anything (including a thank you), he pulled out the large dagger and sliced into the meaty part of his palm. I vaguely noticed that he didn't wince.

The air suddenly rank of blood and iron, and I heard a few of the Vamps hiss and turn towards the car.

Sam handed me the dagger. "Once Dean is in the car, tell him to call for Cas then drive to the bunker. I'll try to meet you there," he urged, three unspoken words hanging ominously in the blood-soaked air between us:

 _If I survive..._

I felt a tear slip down my face. Sam reached over and brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. Then he was gone, rushing out of the car, running towards a little Mexican restaurant across the clearing. The Vamps dashed after him, honing in on the scent of his blood. They all forgot about Dean, including me.

I was still clutching the dagger when the front door screeched open.

I jumped and saw Dean glaring at me.

"Where's Sammy?!" he bellowed, hopping into the driver's seat. I pointed over to the building as Dean revved the engine.

"Hold on," he murmured, slamming on the gas. We moved only a few inches before stopping, one of the tires spinning uselessly. We were stuck in a pothole, of all things.

"He-he said to go to the bunker, and he'd meet us there." I managed to relay, clutching the seat for dear life and Dean kept ramming Baby between Drive and Reverse.

We were stuck good. For now, at least.

"Fuck that!" Dean made to get out, abandoning his attempts to loose Baby. I started panicking when I remembered the other thing Sam said.

"He told me to tell you to call Cas! That they could help while you got me to safety!"

Dean froze, his hand hovering over the handle. "That's an idea, I guess," he murmured, before throwing his head back and staring at the roof of the car.

"Cas, Sam's in trouble. If you can hear me, please come to this location, then get Sammy to the bunker."

I decided that Dean was going crazy, and I felt Baby shudder slightly. The tingle pinged, telling me it was okay to drive now.

I climbed into the front seat, almost sitting on my backpack. I hadn't notice Dean throw it into the car, but it was sitting there nonetheless. I pushed it to the floor, then turned to look at Dean.

"Dean, we gotta go." I urged. I could hear the Vamps trying to get to Sam, and it sounded like a few were on the verge of giving up.

Dean merely shook his head. "No, we wait for Cas."

I couldn't help it. I grabbed his arm. "Dean, you can come back for Sam. He will be fine until then. Get me to the bunker and into my room. Sam wanted me safe."

Dean's eyes clouded over, and he began driving. Oh boy, he was going to hate me when we got there.

I curled up in the front seat and prepared myself for a long nap. I barely noticed the sound of wings or the distant screams of Vamps.


	8. Torture

Dean was shaking my shoulder, trying to get me to wake. I REALLY didn't want to, but I obliged him by groaning and cracking open one eye. It was the middle of the night, but I could tell we had slowed down. A sign flashed by, advertising a Kansas rest stop up ahead.

"Kansas?" I grumbled, sitting up. "I've been out for two days?"

Dean frowned. "No, only a couple of hours."

I was trying to calculate the math in my head when he said something that made my blood freeze.

"Nebraska isn't that far from Kansas."

Nebraska? I had met them in Nebraska? But I thought...no, Midi, calm down. You can't afford to freak out now.

I decided to distract myself by asking a question that had bothered me since we had left Sam behind. "Dean?"

"Yeah, kid?"

It took all my willpower to not slap him. "How did Celeste, I mean Charlie, die?"

Dean slammed his foot on the brake, causing me to fly forward. I heard a pretty crunch sound come from my wrist, and I bit my lip to stifle the scream.

He was staring at me, I know it. But I couldn't help it. I NEEDED to know.

"Charlie died doing something Sam asked her to do," he began, his voice full of hurt. I glanced over and saw his green eyes beginning to fill with tears. "But it was my fault Sam asked her to do it in the first place."

"Sam said he was sacrificing himself to atone for Charlie's death..." I recalled, drawing comparisons between both Winchesters' grief. They both felt responsible. What had happened?

Dean looked over, concern etched in the lines on his face. "Why would he say he needed atonement?"

I hesitated, but the tingle pressed me on. "Well...Charlie died saving you and I'm her sister. By saving the closest amalgamation of Charlie he could find (her blood and her work), maybe he felt that he could fix the fault he had in her death?"

Dean's face was crestfallen. The tingle told me that Charlie's death wasn't just difficult; it was recent. Like the past couple of days recent.

"It's all my fault..." he whispered.

Before I could ask him what he meant, a semi truck squealed past us, it's horn blaring in the late night air. We both jumped. We were still on the highway, and not out of danger yet. Dean hit the gas and pulled back on the highway.

But I still had one question.

"Dean, who's Cas?"

He smirked. Good. At least he was cheering up. I knew it wouldn't last long though.

"Cas is a, uh, friend." He stated, before pursing his lips and flicking his eyes over to me. I knew he was leaving out information, but I knew it wouldn't last long, not with a look like that.

He sighed, obviously giving up. "Cas is an angel."

Angel?

"Wait, angels exist?" I looked out at the night sky, expecting to see some cherub looking boys flitting about in the night.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, they do. I didn't believe they existed for the longest time, not until I met Cas. Castiel has helped us out of several scrapes in the past. I only hope he was able to help Sam." His hands tightened on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white.

We sat in silence for the next few minutes while Dean pulled off the highway and onto a little dirt road. He pulled up to a heavy looking garage door set in a hillside. I could see a building the size of a factory rising up over the hill. I wonder if the two are connected?

Dean punched a button on an old remote, and the garage door slid open without a sound. Lights began turning on automatically as we drove in, and the door shut behind us. I could hear locks clicking into place, reminding me that this was a bunker, meant to protect against large scale attacks.

Dean parked at the end of a row of very nice old cars. He then proceeded to hop out and rush around to my side, holding the door open. His lip was twitching.

Something was off, and I knew what it was. He was coming to.

I snatched up my bag and the dagger before getting out of the car. Dean led me through the garage and into the main building. I caught a glimpse of a large open foyer type place with a column of twisting stairs at the other end of the room before he was leading me through the various twists and turns of the underground bunker. The tingle informed me that this bunker was built by the Men of Letters in the forties, using the factory above as a disguise to hide their operations. I didn't care so much, because Dean had started to radiate hatred.

He knew what had happened, he just didn't know why. All he knew was that I was the cause. I wasn't sure how long I had before he snapped.

"Here," he grounded out, fighting for control. We had stopped at a room that was sparsely decorated, but the decorations it did have matched my tastes. All geek, no chic.

I stepped inside to investigate when Dean suddenly dove forward and snatched the knife out of my hand. I whipped around, terror filling me when I saw his eyes.

They were no longer green.

They were wholly black.

I screamed, dropping my bag as I scrambled backwards, tripping over the desk. I landed heavily on the floor and heard my bad ankle and my wrist both snap in protest.

However, my scream must have resolved something inside him, for he blinked and his green eyes returned. He looked momentarily confused before shutting the door with enough force to make the pictures around me rattle.

I limped over to the door, trying to turn the handle. It was locked, and wouldn't budge.

"Dean! Let me out!" I shouted, listening to his retreating footsteps. I pounded my good fist against the door, hoping against hope that he would come back.

He did, after a minute. But I could hear the chair being dragged along for the ride. The door jolted under my hand, and my tingle unhelpfully updated me, saying he had just jammed it under the handle.

I wasn't going anywhere.

"Dean..." I whispered, feeling the fear creep up my throat, cutting off my voice.

"I'm going back for Sam and Cas. I'll be back in 12 hours. I don't care if you're hungry or have to go to the bathroom. You'll starve and hold it. And when I get back, you're going to explain to me what happened." He informed me through the door, his voice laced with venom and rage.

I heard his footsteps recede down the hall and a distant slamming of a door.

Then silence.

I couldn't help it. I screamed out his name, begging him to come back, to let me out, that I was sorry.

I screamed myself raw, even bashing my injured hand against the door over and over again until I was numb to the pain.

I finally stopped after an hour or so, choking on my tears. I wasn't even upset that he had left. No, I had deserved that. I was, however, terrified by my situation.

I turned to face my fear, only to see the room walls move closer together, my space getting smaller and smaller. I knew it was only a trick of my mind, but I couldn't help it.

Claustrophobia.

I passed out due to hyperventilation.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of footsteps.

"Dean?" I called out, picking myself off the floor. My ankle was sore and my wrist was swollen. I still hadn't bandaged them because I hadn't had time. So much had happened...

I hobbled over to the door, calling out once more.

"Dean? Can you let me out now? I'm sorry for earlier...I'll tell you everything, promise!"

The footsteps paused. My heart soared. I would be getting out of this confining room.

My door flew open and I almost ran out, except the man standing in the doorway was not Dean.

Or Sam.

I barely had time to register the black eyes and handsome features before my good foot connected with his nether regions.

The man doubled over, allowing me to bash his nose in with my knee. He crumpled to the floor, giving me time to move.

Black eyes equal bad. Bad equals Darkness. I ran over to my bag where I had dropped it earlier and kicked it under the bed. Hopefully I could distract the intruder long enough for the Winchesters to come back. I'd relocate the bag then.

I ran back to check on the guy to find a flaw with my plan. I heard more footsteps coming down the hall.

I did the only thing I was good at. I ran out of the room and ran away from the approaching steps. It was difficult, my ankle screaming the whole time.

"Grab her!" I heard a voice yell. Before I could look around to get a good look at him, I ran into an outstretched arm, which promptly threw me down.

My head bounced off the floor, and I went unconscious for the fifth time in 24 hours.

* * *

"Wake up!"

I was shocked awake by a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head. I gasped, my eyes flying open to see a handful or so black-eyed men and women gathered in a loose semi-circle around me. The one who had dumped the water had dried blood crusted on his upper lip. It was the guy I had nailed in my room. He simply snarled at me before joining the others. I looked down to see I was tied to a chair, the rope cutting off circulation in some places. The tingle informed me that I was in the main foyer, and I could see the staircase rising behind the intruders.

A woman hopped off a table in the center and sauntered forward, her black eyes calculating. (Well, at least I THINK they were calculating. It was hard to discern with all the black.)

"Where are the Winchesters?" She purred, slowly stalking further towards me. I had see several feral cats do that to unsuspecting mice. I wasn't stupid.

The tingle changed my answer before I realized why.

"Ne-North Dakota." I stuttered.

Her eyes narrowed. "You hesitated."

My teeth started chattering of their own accord. "N-no. I'm c-cold." I managed to get out, looking accusingly at the man I attacked earlier.

This time, she hesitated. "Why would you give them up so easily?"

I glared at her. "For your r-record, I was th-their p-p-prisoner!" That wasn't true, but I knew the tingle was protecting both me and the Winchesters.

The lady leaned in close, and whispered a terrifying phrase that stilled my teeth.

"I don't believe you."

She leaned back and lashed her nails across my face. Three burning lines of pain flared on my cheek, and I cried out. I felt blood trickle down my face.

 _Protect the Winchesters._

I don't know why that was my goal, but I knew it was important. They had risked their lives to save me. I had to do the same for them. No matter what, I would not reveal their location.

I raised my eyes to those of the hateful bitch who had marred my face. "I'll never tell you where they are. I'd rather die."

She raised one perfect eyebrow. "So be it. I'll just torture it out of you then."

* * *

The torture lasted for hours. They used silver blades, slowly dragging them along my arms, laughing at my screams. The blades cauterized the wound as it went, meaning I wasn't bleeding out by any means.

At one point, after I had managed to get a leg free and perform an encore on my original attacker, he whistled. Suddenly my bad leg (which was the one I kicked him with) was on fire. It felt like an invisible Rottweiler was trying to rip my leg off. The tingle told me hellhound, then made the connection to demons from there. I was surrounded by demons. A vision of Dean's black eyes flashed behind my eyelids, and it scared me enough to tear my leg free and kick the hellhound in the face. It must have only been a puppy, the way it whined and scampered away (it was hard to tell, since it was invisible).

The demons all laughed, petting the hellhound as it passed by them. I realized that I had no idea how to kill a demon. How was I ever going to get out of here?

The torture varied from mind-numbing terror/pain to mild annoyances. But with each passing hour, as the methods began to drift towards almost killing me, I began to worry that Dean might come back. And I had no idea where he would stand. Would he help me? Or would his eyes turn black as he joined in the fun?

* * *

"Stop."

They removed the water soaked cloth from my mouth and righted my chair. I coughed up as much water as I could, knowing the potential of dry drowning.

A handsome demon with chocolate skin approached, his smile kind (so I knew it was a lie). He was the only one who had yet to participate.

"Ma'am, what is your name?" he drawled politely, one of his hands snaking out to gently grab a lock of my wet hair. Creeper.

"Midi," I responded automatically. I felt the tension on that lock increase, and I found my head being slowly drawn back to look him in the eyes. They were like two black marbles: lifeless.

"Tut, tut." He whispered, his white teeth abnormally bright against his dark lips. "Full name, not nickname."

I frowned. My tingle started going off like crazy, but I couldn't help but be honest to this man.

"Pandora Harmony Middleton."

He released my hair as if he had been burned. The room was full of a hissing sound, which I realized was coming from all of the demons combined, as well as the one hellhound. The bitch from earlier rushed over, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Anthony, could it be?" she whispered, eying me with awe. I saw similar expressions on those of her colleagues.

The words that the Coven had imparted came back to me, and I realized what a mistake I had made.

"Mara, fetch me a blade." Anthony said, almost with a sort of reverence. The lady dashed off towards the table, grabbing a silver blade quickly.

I started struggling against my bonds. Shit, why did I have to open my stupid mouth?!

"Restrain her better!" Anthony barked, taking the blade from Mara. Two more demons rushed forward with rope and duct tape. They taped my mouth shut and redid the bonds on my legs, ignoring my muffled screams of protest and pain. No...this can't be it!

Anthony grabbed the back of my chair, tipping it forward. I found myself staring at the tiled floor.

I knew we were in a large room, with the library just next door, but I hadn't realized how well sound travelled. Perhaps it was on purpose, so all would know when an attack started, or so that no secrets could be kept here. Whatever the reason, it allowed me to listen to my death sentence with burning clarity.

"Fellow demons!" So, I was right. Yay for me. "We came here looking to kill the Winchesters, only to find the secret to immortal life!" Anthony's voice echoed down the halls and reverberated back, making it seem like thousands of Anthony's were trying to speak at once.

I saw a drop of water hit the ground below me. I pretended it was from the drowning treatment, but I couldn't hid the truth from myself. I was about to die and cause the end of days. Crying was totally normal.

"Prepare for endless death!" He boomed, bring the blade to my throat. The room roared with approval.

I closed my eyes, and waited for the end.


	9. Release

I heard a slight whistling sound slice through the air, before hearing a sickening thump originate right above me. My chair started free-falling, and I managed to shift my weight at the last second, causing it to land on its side instead of on my face.

I looked up at Anthony, and screamed.

The handle of a knife was protruding out of his chest, and his skin looked like it was flashing with red lightening. He crumpled over, dead, his face inches from mine.

His lifeless eyes stared into mine, but all I could see was the knife. I knew I had seen it before...

Chaos ensued around me, and I heard my name being called, but I couldn't focus on that. I was too busy trying to inch close enough to grab the knife that I didn't notice the familiar voice until he was right beside me.

"Midi!" Sam exclaimed, popping his head into view. He looked ragged, shocked, and worried. But most of all ALIVE. He turned around and ripped the knife out of Anthony before using it to cut me out of my bonds.

"Midi, once we get you free, you run," he was saying, trying to remain calm. "Find someplace to hide, and take this knife for protection." He helped me up and pressed the handle into my good hand. He pulled me into a quick hug, whispering "I'm so sorry, Midi. I'll come find you when it's clear." With that, he was gone, jumping back into the fray to help whoever had come as backup.

I didn't need to be told twice.

I limped along as fast as I could, dragging my useless leg behind me, letting the tingle dictate my route. Somehow, it led me to a storage room, and further back into a secret room.

I felt tears sliding down my face, burning as they crossed over the nail marks from Mara, but they were tears of relief. I knew I was safe, for now.

I crouched down in a corner, pulling my good knee in close. I felt a break down coming, but I had work to do first. I stared long and hard at the dagger in my hand before setting to work, all the while thinking of Dean's demon eyes.


	10. The Other Side

Dean wasn't so much pissed as he was confused. All he had thought about for the past few hours was her. How had she managed to convince him to leave his brother behind? And why had she screamed when he took the dagger? It would've made since if she had been looking at the dagger itself, but she had been looking him dead in the eyes when her face drained of color.

Dean shook his head irritably. "Find Sammy, worry about the girl later," he muttered for probably the thousandth time.

He punched the gas, passing a tractor. The sun was just beginning to rise on his left.

"Why did she scream?" he questioned yet again.

He drove like this for another hour or so, arguing with himself and fearing the worse for Sammy, when he heard the sound of flapping wings. He looked in his rearview mirror and slammed on the brakes, throwing Baby in park.

"Sam! Cas!"

Dean hopped out of Baby and ran around to the back. Sam and Castiel clamored out as well, grinning ear to ear. Dean crushed Sam to him. He felt his brother chuckle under his hands, but he didn't care. He was solid, real, alive. He had promised himself a long time ago that he wouldn't let Sammy out of his sight, and it felt like he was being ripped to shreds whenever he couldn't keep that promise.

He finally released his brother after a few back-thumps, then turned to his best friend. "Hey man, thanks for- what the fuck happened to your eyes?!"

Castiel's normally blue eyes were red, with blood spilling down his cheeks. Dean remembered seeing something similar a few months ago on an ex-showgirl.

"Rowena cursed me," Cas muttered, looking distraught.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "We'll take care of her, but first we gotta get you cured."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah Sam?"

Sam was standing by the front passenger door, a confused look on his face.

"Where's Midi?" he asked, and Dean felt something start to burn in his stomach, something akin to guilt. _But I'm not guilty of a thing! She's the one who tricked me!_

Cas looked back and forth between the brothers, looking perplexed. "What's a 'Midi'?"

"Midi's a girl, Charlie's sister to be exact," Sam explained, coming back around Baby. Dean noticed that he was bruised and battered, but Sam didn't seem to notice. "And she's supposed to be with Dean."

Castiel looked sick. "Charlie had a sister?" he whispered. Dean recalled that Charlie and Castiel had become close friends over the past few months, and Cas was still taking her death badly.

Dean eyed his friend warily, praying that the angel wouldn't break down. "Yeah, we just met her yesterday. Look," he continued, glancing back at Sam, "she's fine. She's safe and sound at the bunker."

Cas groaned and slid to the ground. Dean was quickly by his side, lightly slapping the angel's cheeks. "Cas! Come on, Cas, wake up!" he yelled, trying to shake his best friend back into consciousness.

Cas's eyes cracked open, full of misery. "She's in the bunker? In Kansas?"

Dean frowned. "Yeah, I dropped her off about six hours ago. Why?"

Cas groaned again. "The bunker was attacked almost four hours ago by two dozen demons." He met Dean's eyes, red tears welling up. "I didn't think it important because I knew you weren't there."

Dean froze, staring at Cas. No, that's impossible. The bunker was demon-proof!

He was suddenly being hauled up by his jacket, and came face to face with Sam.

"Dean, how could you leave her alone?!" he shouted, his fists shaking with rage.

Dean couldn't help it. He snapped. He shoved Sam off him, sending his baby brother backwards. Sam stumbled and almost fell. "I had to come back for you!" Dean shouted back, letting the rage build. "Dammit Sam, I almost lost you! What were you thinking?!"

Sam simply stared at Dean, his lips curved in disbelief. "I was thinking of someone else besides us two for a change!"

Dean stormed forward, getting in his brother's face. "Do NOT ask me to base my actions on some kid we don't even know! Someone we're not sure if we can trust!"

His baby brother stood up to his full height, glaring down his nose at his flesh and blood. "I'm not defenseless. For all we know, she is. And she could be dead because of you." Sam whispered the statement with a sort of finality that made it real.

It pulled the elder Winchester up short. Sam didn't know that Dean had locked the girl away in her bedroom, or that he had taken away the one demon-killing weapon that might have protected her. It would be his fault if she were dead. And as much as he hated to admit it, the girl had been starting to grow on him. He reluctantly turned to Cas.

"Are you in any shape to teleport us to the bunker?"

Cas nodded, placing one hand on Baby and holding the other out to Dean. He felt Sam lay a stiff hand on his shoulder, his presence both a comfort and a warning. He would not forgive Dean if anything had happened to Midi. With a sigh, Dean took Cas's hand.

The sound of a thousand bird wings flapping filled the air, and Dean found himself momentarily blinded. But the sound and the blindness passed as quickly as they had came. The sight that greeted, the trio, however, was enough to make Dean want to retreat into the deafening sound and crippling blindness once more.

The door to the bunker was ripped off its hinges, laying several feet away in the grass. It was so twisted that Dean was positive they would need a new one.

"Midi..." Sam gasped next to him, and Dean cursed himself.

He rushed to the trunk, pulling out rock salt guns, iron bars, and a set of angel blades. He heard Cas unsheathing his own angel blade behind him.

He had just shut the trunk when he heard Cas shout something.

"Sam, wait!"

Dean looked over to see Sam rush into the bunker, something flashing from the weak light of the morning sun in his hand. Dean swore again, this time out loud. Sam had grabbed Ruby's knife from the front seat.

Dean ran into the bunker, with Castiel hot on his heels. He pulled up short once he got inside, taking in the scene before him.

The room below had almost two dozen demons gathered in a loose semi-circle around the table. Next to the table stood a man, an angel blade raised in one hand. His other hand held a chair forward, it's occupant obscured from Dean's view by the man himself. But Dean wasn't stupid. He knew who the occupant was without thinking. He tried his best to ignore the amount of blood that was on the floor surrounding the chair and the number of torture devices on the table. But he couldn't ignore one thing: this was all his fault.

"Prepare for endless death!" The demon announced, pressing the blade against Midi's throat. The whole room roared with approval that was quickly cut short.

Dean saw Sam running down the stairs when he heard the thunk of the knife. Sam must have thrown it right before setting off. Dean turned to see the demon drop Midi's chair, his skin flashing red. Midi landed on her side, then screamed into the duct tape that covered her mouth. The sound of her fear jolted Dean and Cas into action.

Sam ran towards Midi, cutting her free, while Dean did his best to cover from above, firing off salt rounds at any demon stupid enough to get close to his brother. Cas was picking off the stragglers on the edges with his own demon blade.

Suddenly, Sam rose up in the sea of demons, wielding an angel blade of his own, his eyes fierce and determined. Dean saw Midi disappear through the doorway leading to the library. Good, she was clear.

The trio fought as a team for the next 20 minutes, slowly but surely killing off all the demons. In the end, they were left breathless and uninjured.

"Dean?"

He turned to see Cas holding his arms up, like he was supposed to be holding something. He looked very excited though.

"Yeah Cas?" he asked cautiously.

"Can I keep her?"

Dean paused, looking at Cas's arms carefully. "Keep what?"

Castiel smiled, which was very off-putting with his bloody eyes. "This puppy hellhound, of course!"

Dean did a double take. Sure enough, the nothingness did a small whine and Cas began petting the air.

"Cas, I don't know..." Dean began, but was saved by Sam.

"Dean, I need your help to find Midi." Sam announced, setting down his blood soaked angel blade. Dean realized that the kid hadn't resurfaced after the battle.

"Where is she?" he asked, setting his own blade aside. He noticed that his hands had stopped shaking since the car ride.

Sam shrugged. "I told her to hide and we'd find her when it was safe."

Dean sighed. "Alright, let's find the kid. I have a few questions for her."

* * *

Where the fuck was this kid hiding? Is she like a world champ at hide-and-go-seek? He had checked under her bed (finding the backpack, which he left behind), the other bedrooms, the bathrooms (mens included), and the library (twice!). Now, Dean was about to strike the supply room off his list. Right as he took one step out, he heard something.

It was faint, but it sounded like someone in pain. And it was coming from the hidden demon holding chamber.

Dean pulled out his gun, slowly making his way over to the hidden entrance. It was open. When Dean clearly remembered making sure it was closed when he left almost seven hours ago. He took one deep, calming breath, before whipping his gun into the chamber.

But there was no demon. Not a single living being, in fact. Confused, Dean holstered his weapon and turned to leave.

That's when he saw her. Midi. She was hiding behind the door. God, she looked terrible. Her hair was hanging in wet, red locks around her face. Her blue eyes kept flitting back and forth, wide, almost as if waiting for an attack. Her cheek was marred by three lines, one of which was still bleeding, fueled by the tears that had stained her cheeks as well. One of her legs was stuck out in front of her at an odd angle. Dean could see bones, flesh, and denim from her ruined jeans all ground together, most likely making the leg useless. Dean got a bad feeling he knew the cause of damage, thinking of Cas's new friend. She was curled protectively around herself, hiding behind the knee of her good leg. Dean noticed that she was clutching something tightly to her chest.

All of these observations happened in the blink of an eye, before Dean found himself rushing towards the kid.

"Midi!"

He only made it a few steps before her eyes met his. And she screamed. Her scream stopped Dean short. He watched perplexed, as she tried to cower further into the corner.

"Go away!" she cried, rocking back and forth.

"Midi?" he said again, cautiously creeping forward, hands raised in peace. "Midi, it's me, Dean. It's okay." He reached a hand out, only to have it almost sliced off. He scrambled backwards, noticing Ruby's knife in Midi's hand, her eyes full of terror. Belatedly, Dean figured out what Midi had been clutching to her chest.

"No it's not! Get away from me!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face once more, mixing with the blood on her cheek.

Dean was in utter shock. What had brought this on? And how in the world was he supposed to help her get to the MedBay if she kept trying to cut his hand off?

His eyes zeroed in on the solution that was wrapped around her skinny shoulders.

"Midi, do you want me to call Sam?" Dean asked, backing up slowly. She lowered the knife slightly before nodding, her eyes never leaving his. He got the impression that she was waiting for something to happen.

"SAM!" he hollered, almost instantly hearing the heavy footsteps of his brother pound through the bunker. Dean was still unnerved by the acoustics in this place.

He stood up fully, doing it slowly so he didn't startle the kid. She had curled back up into her original position, rocking slightly.

"Dean? Did you find her?" Sam ran into the chamber, out of breath. He turned and saw Midi, curled up and afraid.

"Midi? Are you okay?" he questioned gently, crouching down to be at eye level. Sam was always the one better suited to calm down any kids caught up in the mess they were constantly in.

Midi shook her head, still gazing at Dean. "Make him leave."

Sam sighed, before turning to give Dean a look he knew all too well. It was the look Sam usually gave him if the former felt more info could be obtained if Dean made himself scarce. Dean shrugged, before leaving to go find Cas.

The moment he was out of the room, he heard something clatter to the floor. Ruby's knife probably. He was so focused on the kid that he almost trampled over Cas, who was laying on the ground in the library, rolling a ball towards the foyer.

"Hi Dean. Did you find the Midi?" Cas asked, looking up.

Dean plopped down next to him, sighing. "Yeah. But I got the feeling that wasn't wanted pretty quickly."

"Oh." Cas frowned, before shrugging. "I'm naming her Meg," he reported happily. Dean was about to explain that Midi was her name, when he saw the ball start floating back to his friend. Suddenly, Dean realized that he didn't mean the kid.

"You're naming your pet hellhound after Meg the demon?" Dean asked, scooting backwards slightly. Hellhounds still gave him the chills.

Cas tossed the ball as hard as he could. It froze in midair. Dean grunted in appreciation. It was a nice catch.

The angel beside him sighed. "Yeah. The hellhound reminds me a lot of her, with it's temper and all." Dean had to hold back a laugh.

"As long as that thing stays away from me, I'm okay with-"

"CASTIEL!"

Sam came running into the library, carrying Midi in his arms, his eyes frantic. Midi's arm flopped out of her lap, and Dean realized why Sam was freaked out. Her arm was covered in burns and fresh cuts. Blood slowly trailed down her arm, dripping off her fingertips onto the ground.

Cas scrambled up, his red eyes wide with horror. "I'll try to heal her."

Dean recalled seeing Midi with her arms tucked against her chest. She had been hiding her injuries. But why?

All the color had left Midi's face. Her breathing had slowed, and her eyes were lazily drifting back and forth under her eyelids. If they didn't hurry, they might lose the kid within the next minute.

Castiel laid a hand on Midi's forehead, scrunching his eyes in concentration. It should've only taken seconds, and her arm injuries and her cheek disappeared. But Cas opened his eyes. They were blue. Dean saw the veins starting to pop on Cas's arm, almost as if he were struggling. Too late, Dean made the connection.

"Cas!" Dean rushed forward, trying to remove the angel's hand from the kid's head, to no avail.

Midi's eyes flew open, bright red with blood.


End file.
